


Nothing More

by JustAnotherBlonde



Series: A Lifetime of Moments [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - College/University, Art, Art School, Bathrooms, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Sleepovers, Trauma, you came here for the kiss but stayed for sasori's silky pajamas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25935673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherBlonde/pseuds/JustAnotherBlonde
Summary: How does "the day it all changed" end for Sasori and Deidara? Perhaps it's not quite what you were expecting...
Relationships: Deidara/Sasori (Naruto)
Series: A Lifetime of Moments [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878778
Kudos: 24





	Nothing More

With the only light coming from the kitchen and worktable lamp, Sasori's studio apartment was dim and shadowy. Deidara sat close to Sasori on a stool at the worktable closer, his head still spinning from the saké and all the things Sasori had just revealed.

“Sasori-danna,” Deidara said, a serious look upon his face. “Sasori-danna. Can I kiss you?”

Sasori’s eyes grew wide.

“You can say no, mn.” Deidara lowered his gaze.

Wordlessly, Sasori lifted his hand and brushed aside Deidara’s signature lock of hair. The eye beneath it was disfigured, blind. A horrible burn scar, old and shiny, glistened under the work lamp’s harsh light.

Tears sprung to Deidara’s eyes at this sudden revelation of his insecurity.

“That’s not fair, mn,” he said in a small voice.

“How did it happen?” Sasori whispered, gently touching the taut, shiny flesh. He wiped away Deidara’s tears, his calluses scratching roughly against Deidara’s cheek.

“It was my own fault,” Deidara replied bitterly. “‘Play with fire, you’ll get burned’ my mother always said. ‘One day, Deidara, just you wait’… She was right. But she doesn’t know… mn."

Deidara sat back and began rolling the sleeves of his jacket. More angry, red welts appeared, some old, some only just healing.

“Losing my eye didn’t stop me,” he said, staring defiantly at Sasori. “I’m not afraid of pain, mn.”

Sasori met his gaze, searched that bright blue eye, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Yes,” Sasori murmured. It took a moment for Deidara to realize what he was talking about. “Yes, Deidara-san. You can kiss me.”

They leaned forward; their lips met. Deidara held himself back, pressing his lips to Sasori’s tenderly, softly. Sasori was trembling. Neither pulled away at first. Deidara moved closer, balancing himself by placing a hand on Sasori’s stool. He tried a different position, still holding back but… _His lips are so perfect,_ he thought. Cool and sweet… Deidara was melting. _I’m falling for you, mn._

Deidara’s warm lips were electrifying—just what Sasori had been afraid of. _I can’t do this again,_ he thought. _I can’t!_

He broke away and buried his face in his hands. First came tears, then sobs. He tried to stop himself, but only ended up gasping for air. Wrapping his arms around himself, he curled up on the stool, burying his face in his knees.

“Sasori-danna,” Deidara called softly, horrified at Sasori’s reaction. He reached out but Sasori batted his hand away.

“Stay away from me! Please! I’m sorry,” Sasori sobbed. “I’m sorry I can’t be what you want! I can’t do this!”

He looked up, brown eyes wild: “You should just leave!”

Deidara stood slowly, his hair hanging down over his eyes. But instead of turning to leave, he knelt down in front of Sasori.

“I won’t leave you alone. Not while you’re like this, mn,” he said, staring up into Sasori’s face. “Please let me stay with you tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor. Or in the bathtub if you don’t want me anywhere near you. Just let me stay.”

Sasori wiped his tears away with the heel of his hand.

“You’re breaking my heart,” Deidara whispered. “Mm.”

Not for the first time that day, Sasori’s body moved before he could think: he reached out and cupped Deidara’s cheek in the palm of his hand, pulling Deidara to standing. He wrapped his arms around Deidara’s back and pressed his face into Deidara’s stomach. In response, Deidara embraced Sasori, cradling his head.

“I can’t do this…” Sasori said in a small voice.

“Yes, you can,” Deidara soothed. “You have nothing to be afraid of. Nothing has to change. After today, we’ll see each other on campus like normal. Nothing more. You can help me with my exhibitions like you did today… Just let me stay with you tonight, mn.”

Sasori’s breathing had calmed down. He sat back on his stool, releasing Deidara. Deidara caught his hands before they dropped and held them.

“Okay,” Sasori said, releasing a shuddering sigh. “I think… I want some tea. Do you drink tea?”

Deidara’s eyes welled up and tears spilled over. “I’d drink anything you gave me right now, Sasori-danna, mn.”

“More saké?” Sasori teased.

“Didn’t you—we—already finish an entire bottle?” Deidara’s eye grew wide. “I don’t think it’s a good idea right now…”

*

Sasori put the kettle on and scooped some leaves into a small ceramic teapot. Deidara was still completely fascinated by Sasori’s mature lifestyle, ashamed to even think of what his dorm room looked like right now. _And I’m already twenty-three…_ he thought grimly.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Sasori announced. “When the kettle’s boiled pour the water into the pot. I won’t be long.”

Deidara nodded. His head was clearing little by little after the sake. As he sat there waiting, he started to feel a bit silly. _Maybe I should just go home…_ he thought. _I’ll tell him I forgot to do some homework, that I need to run and grab it before class tomorrow…mn. No, I could do that in the morning… Gah, what am I doing?!_

“The kettle boiled. What are you waiting for?” Sasori’s voice behind him made Deidara jump off his stool. He turned.

Sasori was walking towards him, drying his short red hair with a towel. He’d changed into soft black pajamas that swished silkily when he moved.

“Oh! Sorry, mn.” _Oh my god he is adorable!_ Deidara wondered if he would be offered a set of pajamas, then remembered that he was probably sleeping on the floor. He walked around to the kettle, poured the boiled water into the pot and watched the leaves swirl and dance.

Sasori walked over to his bed and sat down. The duvet was folded neatly at the foot of the bed. He reached into a drawer in the nightstand and pulled out a bottle of moisturizer, which he rubbed into his face and neck.

“Bring the tea over here,” he said. It was almost a command. Deidara obeyed willingly—quite the change from when they’d first met. As he approached, Sasori scanned his dirt-smudged jeans and jacket and sighed.

“I can’t let you sit on my bed in those clothes.”

“Sasori-danna!” Deidara exclaimed, at once shocked and amused. _Please say you have another set of pajamas…_

Sasori walked over to the wardrobe that stood against the wall near the foot of the bed and rummaged through it. He tossed a moth-eaten t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants at Deidara.

“Help yourself to anything in the bathroom. There should be a spare towel if you want to shower.”

Full of apprehension and still feeling a little silly, Deidara crossed the studio and entered the bathroom. His experience at house parties had taught him that you can learn a lot about people from what they kept in their bathrooms. Earlier throughout the day he had begun surreptitiously inspecting it, but now he could poke around at liberty.

His first impression of Sasori’s bathroom was one of immaculate cleanliness. Deidara was beginning to understand that all these little rituals—cooking, cleaning, carving his puppets—were how Sasori kept himself sane, kept his life under control. It explained why he never joined the undergrads or the other teaching assistants when they went out drinking or clubbing. Deidara had been attracted by Sasori’s aloofness, not knowing what he was using it to hide. Now that he’d had a peek behind the curtain, he was all the more fascinated.

There was very little clutter in the bathroom, and the few items that were present were arranged in neat rows, according to size. Sasori used refillable containers for all of his toiletries, so that almost no brand labels were visible. _How am I supposed to know which one’s the shampoo?_ Deidara thought with a huff. _Fine, I won’t shower then, mn._ He peeked behind the shower curtain anyway, interested to discover the old, lion-footed bathtub. The tub was also immaculately scrubbed and showed signs of frequent use. There was a dog-eared paperback tucked into a shelf within arms’ reach of the tub, and a headrest. Deidara shivered to imagine Sasori beneath a mountain of bath bubbles, leisurely reading… _Calm down!_ he cautioned himself. _Don’t blow this! Ugh, although I’d very much like to… blow… this…mm._

He stripped off his jacket and shirt and splashed his face with cold water. Several times. He let it drip down the back of his neck and chest, then patted himself dry with a soft, white towel he found on the shelf with the paperback. The book was Hawking’s _Theory of Everything._

The t-shirt Sasori had given him depicted Mount Fuji and had the characters 日本の富士山 printed across the bottom of the image. It was a little short. Taking care not to coat the floor with the dirt that was flaking off his fashionably-ripped jeans, he carefully tugged them off and folded them. There was a laundry hamper near the door, a wicker one with a lid. Deidara piled his jeans, jacket and shirt on top. The sweatpants were similar to the black ones Sasori had been wearing all day: thick and stylish, not the kind you’d buy at a supermarket, but rather the ones that looked like they ought to have come from a high-end designer shop. Wearing them on his hips, his flat stomach peeked out beneath the too-short t-shirt.

Last but not least, he pulled his hair out of its ponytail and sought around for a comb. He pulled open the medicine cabinet and was greeted by row upon row of pill bottles, all with Sasori’s name on them. _Prescription…_ He shut the cabinet slowly. The comb was in a drawer below the sink. It looked like it hadn’t been used in a while, if ever. Sasori certainly didn’t need it with his short-cropped hair. _Wait…_ there was single, long black hair tangled around its tines… Removing the hair and tossing it in the bin, Deidara pulled the comb through his hair slowly, cursing himself for not carrying a better one in his bag. He flipped his long fringe away and forced himself to look at his ruined eye. Grimacing he flipped the hair back, combing it until it shone.

Finally, he unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out. Sasori had turned off all the lights save the reading lamp by his bedside. The dishes had been washed and stood drying on the rack beside the sink. And Sasori sat up in his bed, in reading glasses, with a book propped up on his knee.

Deidara’s jaw dropped open and he pointed.

“Ah! You’re wearing glasses, nn!” Deidara exclaimed. Suddenly he wondered just how old the ‘senior’ teaching assistant actually was. _He doesn’t look at day over twenty-five, but…_

Sasori looked up, staring over the rims of his glasses like every stereotypical librarian or teacher that had ever graced a television screen.

“What were you doing in there? I didn’t hear the shower running. The tea’s gone cold.”

With an affronted look, Deidara replied, “What do you mean what was I doing? What are you doing, looking all relaxed and adorable? How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself now? Hm?”

“That shirt is too small for you,” Sasori observed, choosing to ignore Deidara’s question. He put his book aside and pushed his glasses onto the top of his head. “Come here.”

As Deidara approached, Sasori took another, larger book off his nightstand. He laid it on the pillow—there was only one pillow—and moved towards the edge of the bed so that Deidara could sit beside him on the inside, next to the wall. The bed was not wide. When Deidara folded his legs up, his knees brushed Sasori’s. Sasori moved out of the way.

“What’s this then?” Deidara asked with a yawn.

“A bit of bedtime reading, I guess…” Sasori replied. He reached behind himself and unfolded the duvet, throwing it over both their shoulders. “‘Roman Sculpture’,” he said, reading aloud the book’s title. He flipped it open. Deidara leaned in close, poring over the first image. It was a sculpture of a woman wearing a thin dress, attempting to flee from a horned monster which bound her in its grasp. Her face was twisted in abject horror—

“You can feel it,” Deidara whispered. “Her terror…”

“And look here, at the detail. See how her dress pulls? You can tell the direction she’s moving in…”

“It’s beautiful but—”

“Don’t say you’d want to blow it up! It’s already been done! Most of the statues in this book were destroyed during that earthquake in Italy last year…”

Deidara turned his head slowly, leveling an incredulous stare at Sasori.

“I’m really starting to wonder if you planned today, Sasori-danna, mn.”

Sasori looked down at the book, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “I didn’t plan today, but…” He shifted his position and flashed a quick glance at Deidara. “I did think of you when I bought this book.”

It was Deidara’s turn to blush. He lifted his hand, wanting to place it on Sasori’s knee, but he just waved it and placed it back in his own lap. He had no words to express the emotion that flooded his heart just then.

Instead, he stretched himself out on the bed, rolling onto his back and reaching up to the ceiling as if he were grasping at stars. His lock of hair flipped back so that Sasori could see his entire face.

“I know I made you cry today, Sasori-danna… But today has been the best day of my life… so far, mn.” He dropped his arms and looked over at Sasori. Sasori was beaming at him softly.

He reached out to stroke the curve of Deidara’s cheek and chin, on the side with the scar, and said quietly, “I made you cry today, too.”

Deidara shook his head. “It’s nothing, mn.”

Sasori also moved to stretch himself out beneath the covers, propping himself up on his elbows and flipping to another page of the book. Deidara rolled onto his stomach and they examined the next image, each making his own comments.

After a while, Deidara began to droop, and soon he was passed out, snoozing gently, using his own arm as a pillow. Sasori silently closed the book, set it on the night stand and flipped off the light. In the darkness, he burrowed deep under the covers, careful not to touch or disturb the sleeping Deidara.

But before sleep took him, Deidara flipped around and found his hand. Nothing more.

Sasori drifted off to sleep holding Deidara’s warm hand, thinking for perhaps the first time in years that maybe it wasn’t so terrible to be able to feel the touch and pulse of another human being.


End file.
